


Udderly Mine

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bondage, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Collars, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), F/M, He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Heavy BDSM, Nipple Clamps, Painplay, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), Tit Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Whenever Aziraphale has tits, Crowley can't help but want to ruin them. Aziraphale quite likes being ruined.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 57
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme Anonymous





	Udderly Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of companion piece to [A Big Fan of Improvisation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660689), in that it uses the same magical mood ring collar in lieu of a safeword. 
> 
> And if you're groaning at the title, please know that the runner-up was "Your My Breast Friend".

Aziraphale let out a long wail as Crowley deftly sliced through the tape compressing her left breast into a tight cylinder. He peeled back the tape so that the skin of her cleavage was exposed and left the rest on for now, before giving her right breast the same treatment. He gave himself a moment to appreciate the overall picture she made: the tears streaming down her face, the little sobbing breaths she made, the way her chest heaved, the way her fingernails dug into the tender flesh of her thighs where her hands had been bound, the way her cock curved up against the already come-stained swell of her stomach. Then he refocused himself on what really mattered here, and and straddled her chest.  
  
Between the tape still encasing half her tits, and the short chain connecting the clamps he had on her nipples, they stayed close together, creating the perfect spot for him to slide his dick. She wailed again: the flesh there was sensitive and raw, and he could feel the heat of the bruises that will decorate her tits before they're done rising up from them. It wasn't just the compression- he'd given them a good beating before taping them up, with the soft flogger and the riding crop both. He planned on giving them another round with the cane before they were done, but that would be for later. For now, he enjoyed the way she craned her neck with reflexive obedience to take him into her mouth, her tongue curling behind the head of his cock.  
  
"That's my angel," he groaned, fucking himself between her tits and into her mouth with wild abandon. "Fuck, I love it when you get like this, when you let me make you like this. Such a pretty little angel, all tarted up in bruises and tied down for my pleasure."  
  
When he came some of it- quite a lot of it- got on her face. He left it there, and checked her collar.  
  
The collar was miraculously made, and served as their safeword, letting Crowley know her mental state when they were deep in a scene. It was especially important in a scene like this, when she very quickly got reduced to the words "Stop, don't, please" and then went nonverbal all together.  
  
The stone set into the collar wasn't black, so she was fine to continue, even as the grey of pain warred with the scarlet of arousal, and the bright neon green of fear warred with the delicate pink of trust. The whole things was still ringed in maroon, which was all that he needed to know to press on.  
  
Speaking of presses...  
  
"I've got us something new to try," he said as he pulled her so she was sitting upright against the headboard. He plucked the clamps from her nipples and set them and the chain aside for now. "You're going to love it and hate it in equal amounts, I think." He began to pick the tape free from her breasts. The humans had invented a special kind of tape that stuck only to itself for this kind of thing, but he preferred to stick to duct tape: the micro-abrasions it left behind were a feature not a bug when you couldn't get an infection and could heal any damage that was too severe, and he loved the way it almost tenderized Aziraphale's breasts. "A new press for squeezing these lovely tits of yours, only this one has tiny holes drilled through the top. Once I've got these squeezed down to my heart's content, I can use those holes to better stick you with needles. You need a bit of sharp to go with all the throbbing, don't you?"  
  
Aziraphale whimpered. She'd been whimpering this whole time, but it got noticeably louder after his question.  
  
"In fact," Crowley said, as he pulled the last of the tape free. "Let's get started with a little sharpness now." He latched onto one nipple, which had been encircled with dental floss, and began to bit, using the sharp edge of his fangs to cut through the string as Aziraphale threw back her head and wailed.  
  
After the press was secured and he'd needled her as much as he could, he'd pierce her nipples with the heaviest rings in their collection. He'd reattach the chain to them, and then attach weights until he was satisfied that she couldn't take anymore. He'd cane her breasts, and then he'd lay her back down and use some of their roughest ropes to anchor her ankles to her tits, and then he'd fuck her properly, with the largest cock he could comfortably manifest. He'd take one or more of the candles he had lit and dribble wax onto her breasts, and he wouldn't stop until either he couldn't come anymore or she couldn't scream anymore.  
  
The next part was important too, but he couldn't think of it now, in this headspace: not of being tender as opposed to tenderizing, not of Aziraphale's soft, floaty voice telling him that "that was just what I needed, my dear" when it was currently cracking around a scream, not of the way Aziraphale had tucked herself against him yesterday and would do so again in future, and point to some pictures of those wild Victorian years for inspiration.  
  
She'd been a man for most of them, but a woman often enough that someone had gotten a few luscious shots of her, mousetraps dangling from her nipples on one occasion, and with steaming teacups balanced on top of her cleavage on another.  
  
"I quite enjoyed being of service, you know," she'd said, and yeah, Crowley knew. This was as much her fantasy as it was his, being used as an object of his pleasure, his pleasure being derived from her pain.  
  
That was all for later, though. For now, he bit down just shy of hard enough to break the skin, and enjoyed the way Aziraphale came undone beneath him, green and scarlet dominating the stone in her collar.


End file.
